


Cycle

by SesshomaruFreak, Timewaster123456789



Series: Heirverse: Phase 0 (Chessboards) [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Blood and Gore, Chess Metaphors, Egotistical Aizen, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Heirverse: Phase 0, Kid Fic, Mental Health Issues, Origin Story, References to Sexual Situations, Victim/Abuser Cycle, Villain Protagonist, Voice, Weakness, power
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-12 20:59:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SesshomaruFreak/pseuds/SesshomaruFreak, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timewaster123456789/pseuds/Timewaster123456789
Summary: Aizen reaps the fruits of his deal for better and worse.





	Cycle

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. TheDrunkenWerewolf owns heirverse and much thanks to her for letting me muck around in phase 0 and to SesshomaruFreak for grammar hounding.
> 
> Takes place after pact. Written to 'Mindgames' by Sickkick, 'Become the Beast' by Karliene, 'I am a Rock' by Simon and Garfunkel, 'Devil Within' by Digital Daggers. It could also be argued that I based this on the WH40k Ultramarines novel Nightbringer but that wasn't intentional.

A young man in his late teens strides through the streets of Rukongai. A few admiring hanger's on follow, despite his barely veiled disdain and others seeking protection, metaphorically cower in his aura. The teen exudes power, confidence, a heavy dose of charisma with just enough aloofness that they feel privileged to be in his 'circle'. He's even dressed nicely for the district thanks to receiving a cut from his entourage's crimes. So how has the teen arrived in this enviable position? How has he transformed from the weak filth he's so disgusted by? We must go back a few years.

X

For six months following the pact he'd strutted like a king through the streets that had once been his hell, he felt like a god, with nothing to fear, it was exhilarating. So far Jac hadn't asked him to do anything except occasionally watch the Shinigami in secret as they moved through the Rukon. He was fascinated by his newfound ability to cloak his reiatsu and used it to steal first food and then other things.

In short order he had a small gang of street rats around him. He hadn't even really done anything yet and already people were kneeling to him. One night he was walking to his hideout, he checked around constantly to see if he had been followed. He didn't trust his gang enough to let them know where he slept much less bed down with them. A pair of teenage boys approached him as he cut down an alley.

"Ay bitch," the taller called out. He kept walking.

"I think ya' ow us some money richie," the other sneered. He gritted his teeth who did these idiots think they were? No one talked to him like that.

"I don't. Leave. Now," he replied calmly not turning around. One of them pushed him down and he hit the ground hard, his spiritual pressure flared instinctively pushing them back. He rose and turned around slowly, rage coursing through him as he remembered that he didn't have to deal with this anymore. He smiled when he saw the fear on their faces. They were in for a beating.

 _About time,_ Jac said gleefully. Suddenly it felt like he was falling into an icy pond, his vision went black as the cold enveloped him.

When he came back to himself, he was staring down at the taller boy. The boy's arm was in his hand but not connected to the rest of the body. The boy gurgled, his guts had spilled from his stomach, blood and other juices, turned the Rukon dust to mud as he breathed his last, the other was a few feet away. Sousuke felt bile rise in his throat when he realized that he was wrong, it was just the boy's head.

 _You should probably run,_ Jac teased. Aizen bolted to his hide out, changed, gathered his things minus the bloodied clothes into a bag and bolted again seeking a new hide out. Hours later he collapsed onto the floor of another abandoned building, he would need a new bed. He laid there for what felt like hours and as the numbness faded he began to shake.

 _Oh god really? I thought you were stronger than this,_ Jac sneered disappointed. He was stung both by the insult and by the fact that it was one of his only two friends delivering it. Nausea rose and he swallowed hard against the urge to vomit.

 _I am strong, but I didn't mean to kill them,_ he answered.

_Apparently not and yeah you did or I wouldn't have been able to._

_I've never killed anyone._ A few tears leaked from his eyes as the enormity of what had happened hit him.

_You'll get used to it._

He choked back a sob.

_Would you stop sniveling?!_

_You took my soul,_ he whimpered, it felt like he was drowning he couldn't breathe, suffocating.

_You gave it willingly._

_Th-this wasn't part of the deal._

_They were assholes,_ Jac shrugged.

_The str-strong prey on the w-weak it's way of the Rukon I've done it. They didn't d-deserve to die, it's n-not…_

_What was that? It's not fair?_ Jac laughed. It chilled his bones and he began sobbing into his arm. _I thought you wanted to be strong?_

The next day when he woke he thought it'd all been a nightmare until he saw his new surroundings. He drew a shaky breath, terrified for the first time since he'd made the deal. Jac laughed in his head.

_Come on, up and at em._

_Shut up._

_You're not still wallowing are you?_ Jac asked exasperated. _If I'd know how pathetic you were I never would have trusted you to help me._

_Back at ya'._

_And how exactly am I pathetic?_ Humiliation washed over him as he felt Jac's amusement. He had no answer it'd just been a childish come back from a scared kid. He gritted his teeth and rose to his feet.

 _Just leave me alone,_ he said. Jac didn't comply, the gentle mentor was gone and as the months went by the voice would randomly assault him. At first he'd sneered at himself when he thought of it that way. They were just words after all, he knew real pain.

He was wrong. He could never see the next hit coming and just when he thought he'd heard everything it found a new weak point to strike. It always knew his weak points too, always went for the soft flesh so to speak. He was weak, worthless, should give up, no one would ever care about someone so evil.

Aizen knew all of this and didn't care much at first. He eventually found himself trying to banish those vulnerabilities as soon as they were brought to light. He realized as time passed, that was exactly what Jac wanted, he was being trained in a sense. It suited him after a fashion, there were worse ways to find your weaknesses, having an enemy find them for example.

He was ashamed to say though that hearing it every day in his ear over and over wore him down. His temper got shorter, emotions in general closer to the surface. After seeing the kind of power he had won through his deal with the devil he'd refused to use it for petty things. He became hyper vigilant, controlled every impulse, thought through every action. It was exhausting and the voice never left him alone for long, cropping up at the worst possible moments.

X

"Well what did you expect!" he snapped as one of his gang members tried to make excuses for scaring off one of the marks of their protection racket. He reined his temper in with a few calming breaths as he felt Jac stir.

"I-I didn't…"

"Get out of my sight," he said.

 _Pussy,_ Jac snarled disappointed.

 _Shut up,_ he replied.

 _Well when you beg like that,_ Jac laughed. Aizen didn't reply. He never saw that gang member again.

X

 _God how incompetent can you be?_ Jac sneered as he tried to sleep that night. You can't even keep desperate scum like that loyal? Why'd I pick you again?

Exhausted and beaten down he fought hard to keep in lips from quivering as he replied, _I'm doing the best I can._

_That's the sad part._

He would have given anything in that moment to have even a single one person on his side. He just wanted to die.

 _Oh I wouldn't let something like that happen,_ Jac replied to the thought. He curled tighter on his small cart in the upper floor of the abandoned hotel he and his crew were using for a hideout. Pain lanced through his head, as he shivered with cold. If he was berated for incompetence and idiocy, the weaker emotions sadness, pity, guilt, joy got him tortured and god forbid he tear up.

_You're worthless like this. What use are you to me? How can you infiltrate the Shinigami if you can't even get that scum to follow you?_

He avoided Yuki now except to deliver money, Jac hated her, but he wished selfishly that she was there now. He'd never felt so alone. He shivered again and gritted his teeth as his muscles tensed and cramped. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to be stronger than this that was the whole point. To his horror, he felt tears welling in his closed eyes.

The pain increased as Jac raged, _You're lucky your other whelps aren't here to see this. Even a shitty leader can get some people to follow them. A weak leader though? They'd be gone before you could say snivel. Hell no one wants to be around that, why do you think everybody leaves the second they get to know you?_

He didn't reply, having long since learned that he couldn't fight the voice. He was too weak.

Instead he screamed in the empty hotel hoping that no one would hear him. He screamed to the deaf heavens at first in pain, then in appeal that they release him even by death, and it became a scream of rage. As the sound died, he shook on the bed and found to his immense relief that the voice was silent.

Then the tirade began again and he bit back a moan knowing how it would piss off the merciless voice. He wished that just once he was the one dishing punishment, wished just once that he was in control beating down the unwilling. Wished that he was the smug asshole cutting down the weak, bending them to his will. God he'd never realized that words could in time hurt far more than fist or blade.

With that thought he forced himself up from the bed. He'd sold his soul for power, he had power. Screw the voice, he didn't need anyone. He stalked the streets not knowing where he was going simply looking to move, do something, anything.

He caught sight of the knife out of the corner of his eye and spun to catch the boy's hand his reiatsu flared and drove the boy to his knees. He twisted the wrist and the knife dropped into his free hand. He let go and the boy scrambled back, his face a mask of terror. How pathetic. Hatred welled inside him.

"Stop moving," the boy froze. He approached and the boy shook under his spiritual pressure. He breathed in deep as though he could physically smell the fear. Power. Yes this was good, this was why he'd made the pact, this was his recompense.

The boy looked so small like this, Aizen wondered if this was how he'd looked to Jac when they first met. Perhaps how he still looked? He wondered with a thrill of disgust, no more he could change and he would. He moved closer a predator closing on his prey and smirked as the kid actually pissed himself in fear the stain darkened the ground between them. Still he moved closer and raised the knife.

The boy looked up terrified, enthralled. In this moment he was god, the boy's life in his palm. He opened his hand and let the knife land on the boy's chest. He smiled, turned his back on his enemy in a parting insult and walked away. Today he would be a benevolent god, who knew about tomorrow. The choice was his.

 _Thought you were going to change?_ Jac asked, out of the blue. He tried not to wince.

_I am._

_Well it's a start,_ Jac said exasperated.

X

Weeks passed, scaring street punks was fast losing its thrill, for one the power wasn't strictly his so he could take little pride in it and for another physically threatening people just made him feel shittier for being cowed by mere words. There was also the ever present threat of losing control.

One night he entered a small restaurant-bar with a skeleton crew of sycophants, they took a table while he made his way to a bar stool in the corner. From there he could keep an eye both on them and the other patrons. A confident looking, well-endowed woman was fending off advances by several suitors while still managing to drink for free. It grated on him, so much like Jac, bending people to her will coercing what she wanted and giving nothing in return. Well two could play that and he would lay money on himself being better at it.

He slid from his stool and approached with his most charming smile. She looked up unimpressed, that was okay, he liked a challenge. The voice commiserated.

They spent the night talking, and he drew on everything that had convinced him to make the pact to bend her to him, make her sympathize as he had with Jac. He may have hated pity but it could be a useful tool as well. He bedded her and left in the night, a note on her nightstand explained the situation succinctly: _Thanks for the ride slut._

He laughed as he slid through the moonlit streets, even as a part of him, beaten to silence, cried for the wrong he'd committed. Hell he'd neva' been concerned for other street rats even before the voice. Age and the voice though had given him a measure of understanding, he forced the thought from his mind. She was dumb enough to think he cared, she'd deserved it. The voice laughed with him. He walked along with a bounce in his step and the realization that he really didn't need anyone. The loneliness banished by the thought that she'd wanted to be with him and he'd tossed her aside like so much trash. There would be others.

As he got better at his little game he never went for physical torture like the voice wanted but he gained great skill in the mental game. After all he'd learned from the best. It felt good to be the one dishing it out for once.

He shortly got bored with racking up conquests; the thought always brought an arrogant smile to his face. He began to relish 'long' games, basked in the thrill of making them believe they were sooo special until he carved out their hearts.

Women and later men too in tears, on their knees in every possible sense of the phrase as he laughed or if he really wanted to twist the knife, just looked on in disdain. For a moment, he would feel powerful and he could pretend that when night fell he wouldn't be the one begging, pleading, reasoning as he remembered exactly how worthless he was. He could tell himself that next time he'd fight back. Next time he'd grow some balls and stand up to the voice.

X

Some dumb bitch, he didn't even remember her name begged him to stay.

" 'Ya ain't worth it," he explained cheerily.

She snarled and threw a plate at his head as he dodged away, smoothly ducking out the door as more dinnerware crashed into it. He smiled as he trotted through the streets.

No sooner had he lain down on the soft mattress in his apartment that night though than the voice started in.

 _Still can't finish the job?_ It sneered.

 _What?_ he asked still power tripping on the bimbo's overwrought reaction.

_She attacked you and still you won't shed blood._

_That's thug stuff anyone can do it, It bores me._

_You won't be able to avoid it forever, better get used to it now,_ the voice's eagerness for the next day's event colored its words.

_Relax I'll hold up my end. I just don't see the point of killing some random person._

_You will or I'll kill Yuki sllloooowwwly._

_You can't! I won't let you!_

_I can do anything,_ the voice said silkily. The words from the day he'd made his deal struck like a whip.

_I'll stop you._

_You can't, you're just a worthless puppet._

Aizen pretended he didn't agree.

X

The next day a teenaged Aizen strides through the Rukon streets on his way to Seireitei followed by his admirers and hangers-on unaware of where he's going or why. Unaware that they'll be left behind, convinced that they will reap rewards for their service. Yet they only served him because he was the most powerful, intelligent they had security or a strategist in exchange, in his mind he owes them nothing.

Years from now he will watch Lisa weep in her captain's arms, Kyoraku will glare death at him. He will give a 'what?' shrug, and walk away whistling merrily.

He will think it's getting too easy.

 _You did learn from the best,_ the voice will purr.

And the apprentice surpasses the master, he will reply with bravado he'll never feel.


End file.
